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My current state of mental health.
I awoke to a certain sense of heart wrenching uncertainty. The will to kick the feeling lost to the lack of any energy in my body. A lack of caring I'm used to feeling from myself, but never of others. The people I once called sisters and brothers, the family I loved that is no longer.
Distance is my weakness, and my weapon of choice, and when used against me I lose my voice. The ability to speak leaves me like the rest of the so called friendships I never had the chance to test. Lay it all to rest.
Because the pounding feeling in my chest is enough to bring anyone to their knees. Why does it happen to me? Who am I to deserve the pain of the scornful gaze cast upon me every day by the eyes of the cast of my story? And though they may be the stars of their own, without a script, I am lost to my role. Am I a hero, or a villain with no soul?
The whiskey on my breath cancels out the smoke in my lungs. I'm a burden, a constant headache. Perhaps it's just the bourbon sitting stagnant in the flask upon my desk.
At a loss for common sense.I'm losing myself to my selfish ways, but that's okay, because some day I will know exactly what it's like to finally feel alive, and to be comfortable in my own mind.
It's so hard to see the future past tonight, so just keep telling me that things will be alright. Because I'm still a child on the inside. I require constant attention, yet I still hide in my own mental dimension. A cerebral detention center. Penitentiary state of mind.